His hand that layed down on down on the rugged beam,
holds more love than you could ever dream.
He will take you in his arms,
lift you to his breast, safe from all harm.
His hand is ever true and sure,
his love is nought but pure,
He'll lift you up and set you firm and sure,
upon the rock that's evermore secure.
When life's failures have you down,
and you are laying with your face upon the ground,
remember this above all else is true,
The gentle hand of the potter rests on you.
The potter's hand is scared by love and nails,
his gentle touch will mold a heart that mourns and wails,
nothing can take you from that hand,
as it leads you toward the promised land.
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